Porcelain Doll in the Attic
by WithLoveAlyssa
Summary: Clare Edwards is stuck in a high maintenance world, along with her fighting parents. Tragedy soon strikes, revealing her father dead. Money starts to run low, and they have no choice but to go to Clare's rich and selfish grandmother for help.
1. Chapter 1

Porcelain ~ Marianas Trench

Silence seemed to consume the air as death glares were being shot between the two. Tension was high in the air, hanging above the long wooden dinner table. No one said a word. It was as if they wanted to see who would dare to speak. Dare to ruin what they have created for the past humdrum hour. Yet still, no one said a word, flinched a limb, nor moved a muscle. The only source of noise was of the warm crackling fireplace, and the never ending ticking of the clock. They were the only sounds that accompanied the ongoing battle.

Looking beyond their facial expressions, which could kill anyone who stole a glance at them, was a fierce flame. A flame that burned in their eyes, one filled with such hatred, such regret. But they weren't always like this. Once upon a time they were companions, friends, and most importantly, lovers. Their passionate love led to marriage, and their commitment led to having a child.

"Clare, I think it's time for you to be excused." My mother said, sounding more like a command then a statement.

Not wanting to irritate her anymore, I obeyed pushing in my chair and leaving my untouched food on the table for the maid to take care of. I didn't necessarily understand why we had a maid in the first place. I could have easily taken the plate myself and done away with it, but that's how impossible my mother is. Our money could be going to something more meaningful, like a charity or something. I tried talking her out of it a few times, but she said I spoke of "nonsense." I'd have to say otherwise.

Taking one last look at the mad couple, otherwise known as my distraught parents, I couldn't help but wonder what had changed between them. Could it ever be fixed? Had their relationship already been shattered like broken glass? There are only questions, and no answers seem to exist. I turned on the ball of my feet and scurried off into my room, the only place that has the good kind of silence.

I didn't know what else to do with myself since going downstairs wasn't an option, so I walked over to my bookshelf which seemed to have dust collecting on it. Lightly brushing my fingers over all the hard covered books, I stopped at a particular one. Taking it out of its place, I smiled as I read the title.

"Fortnight: the Vampire Series." I whispered to myself.

I smiled again, remembering how obsessed I was with this series in my freshman year of high school. My smile soon faded as some bad memories came to mind. I wasn't the most popular girl back then, and I often got made fun of because of the clothes that I wore, which was a uniform from my previous school, and a pair of oval shaped classes that seemed to have hid my best feature, according to my best friend Ali. Along with those dreadful thoughts, I quickly remembered my messy breakup with KC. KC was the very first boy in my life that was more than just a friend. He was so nice to me, but to think that I actually thought that he truly loved me makes me sick to my stomach. Turns out he just wanted to get with my best friend Jenna, or so I thought she was my friend at the time. Moral of the story? You can't really trust anyone.

I sighed, putting the book away, along with the terrible memories. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Come in." I mumbled.

"Hey sweetheart, I just wanted to apologize at what you witnessed with your mother and I. As you have guessed, things aren't really going too good, and I just want you to know that-"

"Is it because of me? Was it something that I had done?" I questioned, cutting him off.

"No, and I don't want you ever to think that. This has to do with only your mother and I."

I slightly smiled in relief.

"I just want you to know that you will always be my little princess, no matter what." He said sympathetically as he kissed my forehead.

"I love you, dad."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

I watched him slowly rise off my bed and walk out of the room. I was relieved that they weren't fighting about something wrong that I had done, but my mind still wondered to the possibilities of the many problems and different scenarios in which did take place in their relationship. I am their daughter, so I should have a right to know.

I shook off all of the negative thoughts that seemed to swarm in my head and shut off my table lamp, closed my eyes, and let my head hit the pillow.

But before I had completely drowned myself in a dark slumber, I heard a loud noise echo through the house. It was an unfamiliar noise, but one that I had heard many times on those criminal shows. The sound of a gunshot.

A/N: Dun Dun Duhhhhh! I know I shouldn't be starting another story, since I haven't even updated "Love is a Game" but I haven't had any inspiration on that one yet…but I hope you enjoyed this and I have big plans for this story ;)


	2. Chapter 2

My eyes shot open as the loud bang echoed through the house. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I couldn't help but compare the noise to the sound of a gunshot. _What if someone broke in? _Do I dare to go downstairs and see what atrocity may lie out before me? Trembling uncontrollably, I walked towards the white crisp doorframe. My hand seemed to slowly hug the doorknob as I started to turn it. My patience level seemed to get the better of me, because before I knew it I had already swung the door open. The hinges on the door squeaked with pleasure as I mentally slapped myself, forgetting that I had to remain as quite as possible, just in case there had been an intruder in the house.

I suddenly stopped and remembered something. About three years ago, my father had an alarm system hooked up. There were so many burglaries going on in the neighborhood at the time, and soon enough, paranoia got the best of him, so we got this high tech alarm system. However, one question still remained; if the alarm was so high tech, why didn't it go off? I tried putting the pieces together, but they just didn't seem to fit. Curiosity slowly took over, and I quietly walked down the stairs. I peered around the corner, but I was only met with the darkness of an empty hallway. I turned away and decided to check out the kitchen. The light flickered on, and the coast seemed to be clear.

I swiped my hand over my forehead, realizing I had been sweating. Going over to the fridge that seemed to dimly light up in the corner, I grabbed a cold water bottle and put it to my head, in hopes of somewhat cooling myself down. Opening the cap, I chugged about half of the bottle. I turned around to put the bottle on the marble counter, and my breathing seemed to come to a halt. There stood before me a large dark figure, dressed in black. I quickly ducked behind the counter top, feeling a bit dizzy from being dehydrated. I poked my head out to get another glance at this intruder. The person seemed to be well built and buff, so it obviously couldn't have been a woman, due to the large frame. I was expecting him to be holding some sort of bag filled with our possessions that we grew to cherish greatly over the years, or at least that's what intruders normally do, right?

But that's the thing. This wasn't normal. For a daughter to wake up from the sound of a gunshot in her own home; Home, a place in which she thought was a safe place, a peaceful sanctuary. Clare scoffed at the thought. The only time it was ever peaceful was when one of the two parents was out, therefore the yelling, bickering, screaming, and what not seemed nonexistent.

The man clad in black started to then walk towards the back door of the house, leaving muddy tracks from his large studded motorcycle boots behind. The phone was too far away for Clare's reach, and she wasn't about to get into a large predicament with a total stranger, who happened to have a gun in his hands. Relieved that he was finally leaving, Clare watched him exit. It wasn't until he left, that she noticed in his right hand, the one not occupied by the gun, was a sharp knife. A knife that seemed so perfectly fit for his hand. A knife that was an accessory to a perfect crime. A knife that dripped with newly found blood.

Tired from hiding behind the kitchen counter, Clare stood up, terrified at who the intruder may have harmed, or better yet killed. She toured all the rooms, stealing quick glances at them, making sure they were still in their previous state. She huffed from exhaustion and plopped down on the couch, which sat in the lounge, until a light bulb went off in her head. She had completely forgotten about her father's workplace. She got up in a hurry, and quietly marched over through the long hallway, and past the staircase. Clare opened the door, and shut it behind her, being careful not to make too much noise in the process. She smiled, loving the smell that always greeted her when she came in here; the smell of pine and her father's cologne that smelt like the ocean breeze. It wasn't too strong, but had the perfect amount of aroma in the air.

As a child, Clare loved coming into this room. The walls were made up of large bookcases that reached the ceiling. Being in this room made her feel important, special. The amount of history and knowledge that all the books held amazed Clare back in the day, which probably led to her love for reading and books in general.

Almost forgetting why she came into the room in the first place, she turned to her father's large messy desk, which had his leather wheeled chair behind it. However, she found it odd that the chair wasn't facing the front, and that the back of the chair was facing towards her. He always pushed the chair back into a neat order, unlike everything else in the room. Finding the small matter peculiar, she swiveled the chair around, only the find the dead corpse of her very own beloved father. Clare gasped, taking in his grotesque features that seemed to replace the old warming ones. His skin that was once so lively was now pale and sickly looking. His mouth was agape, and his welcoming brown eyes were now slightly open, looking at nothing in particular. Clare flinched while looking at the gunshot directly above his eyes and perfectly in the center of his forehead. Not only was there the gunshot, but also multiple stab wounds in his chest area. The one that seemed to catch Clare's eyes the most? The one right in his heart. The heart that once held so much compassion and love, now deceased, there to lay for any open eyes to witness.

She dropped to the floor and tightly closed her eyes, hoping that this was just a dream. A terrible, terrible dream that would soon come to end. A nightmare that would never occur again, and be caught by the dream catcher that hung so peacefully above her bed. When she opened her eyes, everything seemed to remain the same as it previously was. Reality seemed to kick in, and her feet decided to speed off in search of help.

"I can't do this. I really can't do this." I nearly whimpered to myself.

I anxiously glanced around the room that was filled with people whom I didn't recognize with dark clothing on. The air seemed unusually fragile, almost like broken glass. I guess that's a normal feeling for the situation. My hands are covered with cold sweat, and the paper in which held my speech, was now crumpled and covered in tears.

"And now Randall's daughter has a few words to say."

My heart was beating fast as I felt everyone's teary eyes on me, as I gripped the microphone and began.

"Relatives, close friends, and colleagues. In whatever way, or connection in which you knew my father, Randall Thomas Edwards, you would know him for his great compassionate heart. He was always someone you could count on for help and advice. I am very grateful and proud to be the daughter of someone who is very often looked up to."

A sob escaped from my lips as I continued.

"Growing up, he taught me right from wrong, that mistakes are what make us human, and that being the bigger person, only makes you the better person. These are a few of the simplest ones, but they are the ones that will stick with me for the rest of my life. As a father, he put such a huge impact on my life. He showed me that there is so much more to life than just the eye can see. Speaking on his behalf, I know that he has left us with some great memories that will last a lifetime, and will never be forgotten. I love you, dad."

I wiped the remaining tears and returned to my seat, next to my mother, who oddly enough seemed to be pretty content and controlled with her emotions.

A/N: Hopefully once school is over with, the updates will come a lot faster…but I don't get out until June 22nd -_-


	3. Chapter 3

A week had gone by since my father's passing, and I couldn't help but feel empty on the inside, like a part of me had died with him. The crying is endless at this point, because the feeling of him actually being gone forever pains me and has had me at such a tight grip.

Sleepless nights became a normal thing, and waking up to enormous bags under my eyes, along with those tear stained cheeks wasn't out of the ordinary. Wearing scruffy old pajama pants and old sweatshirts with logos plastered on them suddenly became the daily wardrobe. I just didn't care. Not an ounce in my body even had the time to anymore.

Leaving the house was also never an option. I had become a reclusive. A hermit, as most people would describe it as, but in a way, I don't think most of my relatives or even friends minded at all. They never came in contact with me, and if they did, they would be apologizing for my families lost, and I would receive their best wishes and blessings. I was very much grateful for the space to breathe, even if it meant little interaction with the outside world.

I also never really had the chance to speak to my mother lately. We hadn't exchanged words since the funeral, and I was beginning to think she didn't care that her husband of 25 years is now deceased. A sob has never once escaped her lips, let alone any slight facial expressions of grief. She could possibly just be in denial about the whole thing, but I still remain doubtful.

Taking in a deep breath, I climbed out of bed to go get myself some breakfast. It's been days since I can remember the last time I've eaten anything, and that scared me a bit. With the past week's events, eating became less of a priority.

Before walking completely out of my bedroom, I stopped when I saw a quick glance of myself. I looked absolutely horrifying. My hair was sticking out in various directions, my shirt was too big for me, and my face looked like it had been shielded from the sun for over a century. I hardly recognized myself.

Entering the kitchen, which seemed like a foreign territory, I went towards the direction of the fridge. Opening it swiftly, I gathered some items and decided to make myself an omelet. After consuming my time cooking, I finally finished making my meal. Sliding my sock covered feet against the hard wooden floor. I placed my dish on the coffee table and sat down on couch. Between taking bites of my food, I watched the world outside through the large window. Fathers waved goodbye to their families as they drove off to work, joggers ran past with smiles on their faces, and even dog walkers had a happy skip to their step as they talked on the phone to what I assumed to be their loved ones. My life seemed to have come to a halt, but life outside these castle walls continued on.

The rest of the morning went by slowly and soon enough the afternoon haze came strolling in. Since my complexion was beyond pale, and was looked like a sickly shade of white, I got enough motivation to go to the park and take a walk for a change. I threw on my comfiest sweatshirt along with some black leggings and was out the door. My mother wouldn't be back until late tonight, so I locked the front door before I left.

The crisp autumn air send a nice shiver down my back, as the wind danced with the fallen leaves. The green colored trees were now replaced with tints of orange, red, and golden yellow. The streets were practically empty, with the occasional car passing by, which I was quit thankful for.

During the walk to the park and back, I found myself getting lost in my own thoughts. The time to myself was suppose to clear my mind, not confuse me more. I started thinking and began asking questions. My father was the one who had a large business and kept us financially stable, so without him, what would happen to my mother and I? My mother sometimes worked, but that wouldn't be enough. And what about my father's will? Did he leave anything to us?

I was now a few feet away from the house, and heard a weird noise. I squinted my eyes, and saw my mother talking to a lady I had never seen before. I walked a bit closer, and realized the mysterious lady was hammering a 'For Sale' sign into my front lawn.

This couldn't be happening.

A/N: It's been awhile, hasn't it? I wrote this short snippet during the power outage (due to the hurricane) and finally had the chance to upload it. Eli will be in upcoming chapters, I promise!


	4. Chapter 4

"W-what's going on?" I nearly managed to choke out. I glanced at the two women standing before me, waiting for a response.

"I'll give you two some space." The sales woman said as she walked back to her car, fumbling with the paperwork in her hands.

I stared at my mother, still waiting for her to speak.

"There is no easy way to say this, but..we can no longer afford this house anymore." I nodded, slightly understanding the whole situation, but still trying to wrap my head around the idea.

"We officially leave next Sunday, so please have your stuff packed up by Friday the latest." She added.

I immediately panicked. "After we move out, where are we going to go?"

"I was thinking of going to my mother's house. There's more than enough space for the two of us there, rather than living in some cheap hotel."

I sighed, trying to take in all of the information. I saw that the saleslady was returning from her car with more papers than before, so I went inside, assuming that her and my mother had more to discuss.

I could understand why my mother wouldn't want to stay in a hotel, but my grandmother's house? My mother lost contact with her years ago and never tried to rekindle their relationship. I've also only met her once when I was younger and remember her as being a cruel lady. She hated my father and never approved of the marriage between him and my mother.

Entering my familiar sanctuary, I gazed around realizing this would no longer be my room within a week. There was an ample amount of empty cardboard boxes sitting in the corner of the room, which had clearly been placed there by my mother. I grabbed one of the smaller boxes and slowly started filling it. Soon enough, its capacity consisted of my entire book collection and some old knickknacks here and there. After only packing one box, exhaustion seemed to have hit me. Feeling my eyes grow increasingly heavy by the minute, I decided not to fight it and soon my tiredness overcame me. The last thing I saw before my eyes completely closed was an old picture of my father and I on the hanging wall. I smiled but it soon faded, knowing that things would never be the same.

The following week…

Pictures were no longer up on the wall, furniture disappeared only to leave behind marks in the carpet, and the feeling of being a warm comforting house was gone. The house would seem bare to any naked eye, but it was anything but. It was still filled with the raw emotions: hatred, despair, and grief. Anyone who would buy this house would obtain its history and personality.

As the last box was placed in the moving van, I felt that a new life would be ahead of me. I no longer had sadness weighing me down, and instead sensed happiness towards starting a new life. Dark times in the house were to stay behind, and hopefully won't follow me into the new. I didn't bother to say goodbye to anyone. Not having many friends made it easier.

Climbing into the front seat of the car, I put my headphones on and watched my old life pass by. My grandmother's house was only two to three hours away, which I was thankful of since I get car sick easily.

…. ….. ….

I felt something shaking my shoulder and I jumped, waking up from the car ride.

"We're here." My mom smiled. It almost seemed foreign seeing her smile, knowing that it's been awhile.

I nearly let out a gasp as I took in my surroundings. The house was more like a castle, although it looked dark and had an eerie feeling to it. It was mainly made of brick, and had matching black window panes, along with balconies on both sides of the house. In the distance, I could even see that connected to this house was a tennis court and a pool, followed by more bright green acres of hilly land. As much as I hated to admit it, the house was beautiful.

After ringing the doorbell, we were greeted by what I assumed to be the butler. He led us to a sitting room where we waited for him to retrieve the lady that I dreaded seeing the most. A few minutes had gone by, and the sound of clicking heels against the marble floor became louder.

"Hello." A scratchy voice spoke. I looked up and my eyes met dark brown ones, glaring right back at me.

A/N: Was a bit rough, eh? I haven't written anything in awhile, so I'm a little bit rusty..this was a filler chapter, and I know I keep saying this, but Eli will make an appearance soon..hopefully the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

Words that had potential to be spoken lingered in the air. What was supposed to happen amongst the three? A genuine greeting would have been nice, instead of one that sounded so rehearsed, that even the echo of her voice seemed tired of the repetition of words. I stood there, not wanting to sit on the very old and fragile looking furniture, the possible chance that I would break something in the process. I felt useless, just standing there taking up space while the two women exchanged words in a hushed tone. How could they possibly take this whole situation lightly? I tried to listen to their murmurs and fragmented words and attempt to put them together, but it didn't make sense. It was as if they were speaking a foreign language…or maybe I was just the foreigner. I twiddled my fingers and played with the hem of my dress, the one my mother forced me to wear, and kept my distance away from them.

I casually looked around, admiring the high walls that eventually protruded out into three large balconies. The view just from standing in the living room was magnificent. I didn't dare touch a thing, knowing that it would have probably been worth more than my entire house. Portraits of old family members hung proudly on the white walls that were trimmed with gold. A landscape that was painted of this very house was nailed above the dark, sinister looking fireplace. I must have been grinning like an idiot because silence suddenly overtook the house, and the two women who stood a couple feet away from me were looking at me strangely. I quickly darted my eyes back down at my hands. The elder one chuckled, which sent shivers down my spine. It sounded so dry, so...twisted. My mother gave me a reassuring smile, which I just rolled my eyes at and crossed my arms. This was just unbelievable.

"Come now child, let me show you the rest of the house." She croaked. I slowly dragged my feet across the floor towards her. She attempted to reach out and place her hand on my shoulder, which I immediately backed away from. Her eyes feigned hurt and disappointment, but it seemed like it was all for show. If anyone knew better, it was me. I wore a mask everyday to school, so I was familiar with the works of fake smiles and sadness. It must run in the family.

The elderly woman took the lead, while my mother followed behind her, leaving me trailing behind. She showed us room after room. There were endless hallways that had numerous doors that opened to a room, and then inside that room there would be another door that led elsewhere. It was all so confusing. I grabbed my head, feeling a migraine slowly approaching. We finally had reached to what I assumed to be a study room, the last door on the long, never ending hallway. The second the door was opened, bright sunrays hit my face. It was probably the brightest room in the entire house. I smiled for the first time, knowing that I could probably come into here for when I want to write. The study room had a window that stretched an entire wall, with the view of the front yard. While the two women stared and talked about the old pictures and knickknacks on the shelves, I moved the window curtain just a bit to get a better glance. While marveling at the site, two figures caught my eye. Narrowing my eyes, I realized it was two teenage boys around my age. The one on the left was riding a bike. He had light brown hair covered with a navy blue beanie, and his facial features seemed to be soft, unlike the boy on the right. The other boy was dressed completely in black, matching his dark hair. He continually flipped his hair out of his eyes, while he rode a skateboard. Even from my view, I could see his piercing green eyes. His appearance was mysterious. He was simply breathtaking.

Exiting my trance, I suddenly realized both of the boys were looking in my direction. I scurried behind the curtain with blush creeping onto my cheeks, feeling embarrassed. I hoped that they didn't notice me staring at them the whole time. I quickly glanced out the window again, only to see that they continued their way down the street. My mother must have noticed my eagerness to see people my age and nudged her head towards the door.

"Go." She simply stated with a playful smile. I smiled back at her for the first time in awhile, almost thanking her for the sudden freedom.

The moment I left the room, I felt confused once again. I tried to find my way out of this maze, but failed every attempt. My feet seemed to have a mind of their own, taking me every which way and that. Stopping for moment, I collected my thoughts and let my mind take over. I let out a sigh of relief when I finally found the living room, which led to the front door. Closing the door behind me, I felt the warm summer breeze. It felt nice to be outside again. Looking down the street, I luckily still saw the two boys from before within walking distance. I suddenly felt awkward, not knowing how to approach them. Eventually I had made my way passed them, and saw a park coming into view. However when I did, the boy on the bike had stopped me.

"Hey, you're the new girl who just moved into that huge ass house, right?" He asked. Before I could answer, the other boy slapped his arm.

"The correct term is mansion, smartass."

"Thanks, Doctor Doom."

I giggled at their little banter. "To answer your question, yes, I did just move into that mansion…but it's not mine. I'm just moving in with my…grandmother. I'm Clare by the way." It felt weird to call her my grandmother. She was never really in my life, so why even consider her a family member?

"Cool. I'm Adam." Said the boy with the beanie clad head.

"I'm Elijah, Eli for short."

I couldn't help but gasp at his eyes this close. He caught me staring, and I felt my face burning red. Adam seemed to have noticed and started to break the awkward tension. "Uh, hey Clare we were planning on going to the park, would you like to join us?"

"Yeah, sure. I could use some friends, being new and all." I replied.

"Who said we would be your friends?" Eli questioned. I felt my face fall a little.

"Just kidding." He looked at me and smirked, and I couldn't help but smirk back.

A/N: Yes I know, it's been awhile. My plan was originally to update every Saturday/Sunday, but that clearly didn't work out. I want you guys to know that if I don't update a lot, it's not because I forgot about fanfiction. Midterms are coming up, and the amount of homework and studying I have almost every day is ridiculous. I am also trying to make these chapters longer..which I think I still failed at :/

I am also trying to balance the updates with this story and "Love is Game." So next week (hopefully) I will have a new chapter for that story. Until next time!

And feel free to message me on Twitter ForeverD3grassi


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